Hello WordPress! A little historical fiction for you this morning. Enjoy!
It was exactly like she remembered it. The stone flagging on the floor, the heavy drapes pushed aside to reveal the stained-glass windows. His form painted onto each pane, reflecting his own glory back onto him. It gave him a sense of power. She only knew it because he had shared it with her in their quiet moments. When he taught her to ride a horse, or tried to braid her thick red hair himself, before calling for a servant to take over the task.
Moments when he wasn’t trying to extinguish her race of people – her Mother’s people. He convinced her that he was a caring and kind King, someone who was compassionate towards her cause. He fooled her. It’s almost like he knew what she had come back to do.
“Hello Delilah,” he said, as he sat on his red velvet throne. Precious gems danced in the coloured sunlight and made glittering spots on his battle armour.
“You have been accused of aiding the wild race. Those that seek to invade our borders and steal our food. People who have murdered our children and raped our women.”
She stifled a chuckle. Her people had never harmed anyone, unless it was to defend one of their own. Yet he stood her, while innocent people were slaughtered and had the gall to lecture her. Her own conception was due to his raid, she was stolen from her mother to live with him.
Instead she lifted her chin and spat on the ground at his metal clad feet.
He raised an eye brow and whispered. “I sentence you to die for your crimes against the crown. Do you have anything to say?”
“Only one thing.”
He held his hands wide, waiting.
“Now!” she screamed and her soldiers that were lying in wait, disguised as servants, and footmen killed his men. Body after body fell, and she twisted her own concealed blade between the breast and back plate of the soldier closest to her.
He had barely hit the ground when she caught a sword that her second in command tossed to her.
She spun and levelled the blade at the King, the wicked point pressed against the underside of his throat. His eyes jerked wildly as he watched his most loyal fall.
“On your knees, Father.”